


The Revolution of Tenderness

by GealachGirl



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Catholicism, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Foggy Nelson, Tenderness, but it's still pretty background until the end, found family levels of caring, more Catholicism than originally intended, taking care of each other, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: "But the future is, most of all, in the hands of those people who recognize the other as a ‘you’ and themselves as part of an ‘us.’ We all need each other.”Or: After their victory over Fisk, the team learns to be there for each other.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81
Collections: DDE’s 2020 New Year’s Day Exchange





	The Revolution of Tenderness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withinmelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/gifts).



> This was a blast and a welcome break to work on, I hope you like it!

_“Through the darkness of today's conflicts, each and every one of us can become a bright candle, a reminder that light will overcome darkness, and never the other way around._

_“The third message I would like to share today is, indeed, about revolution: the revolution of tenderness. And what is tenderness? It is the love that comes close and becomes real._

After their reunion at Nelson Meats, they’d all three gone back to Matt’s apartment to turn it back into a home. To wipe away the dust that was already making him cough. To do laundry. To wash dishes. To crack a window or two and to fill it with the smell of living people who loved him.

The day after the grand re-opening of the law office, Foggy had gone with Matt back to his apartment to continue the celebrations and to catch some quality time. It had felt like the opening of Nelson and Murdock all over again, and Foggy held onto that happy glow to revisit later. He suspected he’d need it.

In those first few weeks, they were all riding high on the wave of victory and relief the three of them were alive to feel it. Even Foggy, who had sometimes thought his stomach became an ulcer over the course of the past weeks, let loose.

With Karen and Matt by his side, he felt like he could breathe again, and he swore he wouldn’t forget the feeling.

They made it to the winter, which was pretty damn good when, not too long ago, he hadn’t expected to make it through the next day.

But with the cold, gaps and cracks and drafts were exposed, like they were all old buildings undergoing slow reconstruction.

Karen showed up to work with dark circles under her eyes, and Matt privately told Foggy she smelled like shots of espresso more often than not.

Matt himself was on edge and he seemed to spend most of his downtime listening to the city with a grim, set expression on his face. Nothing ever came from it, and he told Foggy there wasn’t anything for him to worry about, honestly.

For Foggy, it felt like the ground was slowly crumbling, and he wasn’t able to stop it or even move out of the way. He couldn’t see the cause of it either. But he also felt oddly removed from that deteriorating ground, so he was just stuck in a kind of limbo.

It broke in December.

Marci took a lot of stuff with her when she moved out, and Foggy helped as best he could, even though neither of them really wanted him to be involved.

That was Friday, and by Sunday he still didn’t feel better about it.

Foggy took a deep breath. He’d been through worse, and he’d been through this before, and he knew he could always steady himself eventually. He looked at the dark sky out the window and saw the bare walls in the periphery. He caught the disappointment before it could sink into his stomach so it just stayed lodged in his chest.

It would just take time. That was okay. He was used to waiting, he could be patient.

The knocking on the door clearly couldn’t though.

“Hey buddy,” Matt said on the other side of the door and the paper bag in his arms. Without waiting, he moved past Foggy and into the apartment. 

He didn’t explain, either, as he pulled out a bottle of wine, a bottle of whiskey and packages of pizza dough, cheese, sauce and a variety of toppings he’d long ago agreed to eat on pizza.

Foggy wanted to ask questions. Like what did Matt know and how did he know it? But as he watched Matt spread the ingredients over the counter, he changed his mind.

“Are we supposed to drink all of that?” he asked, walking over to join Matt in the kitchen. He checked the package for the dough and turned to preheat the oven. 

Matt smiled a little, bringing gentle light to his face. “Depends how the evening goes.”

All of it drew a smile out of Foggy, too. “Let’s find out.”

A few days later, Foggy had a meeting in the morning and he got to the office later than usual to find the office less populated than usual.

Karen frowned when Foggy asked about Matt and said she hadn’t heard anything from him. Assumed they were coming in together.

Foggy held his breath for a moment, just until his thoughts settled into a reasonable shape. In that moment, he was more aware of his heartbeat thudding.

He could be casual. Matt wasn’t on a leash and it was possible he had something to do before work. He rarely called about that, which was increasingly a problem but not a pressing one.

But Foggy knew it could be more sinister so he only waited twenty minutes until he swung his coat on and ventured back into the cold.

He still had a key, and he loved and hated it at the same time. Loved that it got him where he wanted to be and that Matt had given it to him because of that. But he hated ever having to use it.

“Matty?” he called softly. Foggy crossed his fingers and prayed for Matt to have overslept. He prayed he wouldn’t find anything in the main room but a closed door to the bedroom.

Foggy found Matt.

He was sitting by a window, “staring” into space with a blank, numb expression. His jaw was tensed, like it was carrying all the tension he was bearing in the rest of his body.

“Matt?” He got a twitch of a response. Then Matt blinked, his eyebrows furrowed, and he swung his head toward Foggy.

“Hi.”

His voice was about as dull as his eyes.

Foggy took a second, and then he slung his bag over the couch, and joined Matt on the floor. Instantly, the chill seeped into his slacks and burrowed under his skin. It made the same work of his back when he leaned against the brick wall.

Matt had turned to face him, and, up close, Foggy could see how all that weight he carried on his back had begun to sink him. Foggy looked back, ran his eyes over the faint lines Matt wore on his face now, the slight downturn of his lips, like the weight had grabbed them too.

Foggy’s wounded duck.

“I’ve got you,” he said, even if he didn’t understand exactly what he was offering.

Whatever it was, it made the corners of Matt’s eyes crinkle, and his spine give in. Matt slumped against the wall beside him and leaned just a little closer to Foggy.

Eventually, they hit a wall with their cases, too. They got harder and required more work, but sometimes even that wasn’t enough.

It had been a long day, and Foggy had been dancing around the edge of his breaking point for most of it.

He was frustrated, but also just tired, and sinking into the couch or his bed sounded like a beautiful idea. Because it was cold, and the middle of December, and Foggy had just realized his landlord didn’t de-ice the steps.

Everything went flying and Foggy’s only solution was to swear, loud, long and creatively.

When that didn’t help, he picked himself up, gathered his things, and made another attempt at the door. The exhaustion somehow weighed even more on the other side.

He was tempted to think the months before now had been easier, but he knew it was a lie.

Before, he had a well-paying job with guaranteed work and a safety net. But Fisk was out and active and hunting him. Karen was in trouble. He was grieving his best friend, and then missing him, and then worrying over him. 

His chest felt tighter.

One of the windows opened and Foggy whirled toward it while his heart raced. At the sight of the dark silhouette, racing gave way to speeding.

“Foggy? Are you alright?”

Foggy looked up at the sound of the voice and the immediacy of his panic eased by a little. “Apparently not. Why else would you be here?” His words were strained.

“Shit. Foggy, it’s okay.” Matt got to his knees beside him, and Foggy realized he was on the floor. “Can I touch you?”

Foggy didn’t know if he nodded or if Matt decided it didn’t matter because the next thing he knew, Matt was holding him so Foggy’s back was pressed against his chest.

“Breathe with me,” Matt said. Then he set a hand on Foggy’s chest and breathed deep and slow so he could feel it.

After the better part of a minute, their breaths started to match and Matt loosened his grip.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he murmured, closer to Foggy’s ear than before. Even though he wasn’t holding as tight, Foggy got the impression their bodies were closer too.

“Don’t worry about it,” Foggy gasped. His chest still felt tight, but it was receiving more oxygen. “What were you here for?”

Matt paused like he had to think about it. “I wanted to hang out,” he said eventually. “I could go get food and bring it back.”

“No.” They were both surprised by how firm Foggy’s voice was, but he meant it. “No, we’ll order delivery or something.”

Later, over Italian, Foggy tried to find words to explain his attack, but Matt just shook his head.

“You don’t have to,” he started. Foggy tried to insist and Matt’s hand smoothed down his back, slowly, like he was thinking hard about the gesture and his next words. “I understand. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

Foggy let that sink in, and then he nodded. “Okay.”

But Foggy wasn’t the only one with a breaking point.

After another grueling week of dead ends and slow city officials, Karen hit hers.

“That’s it. I’m done for the day,” she declared, throwing her pen down to the desk. Matt’s head twitched as the pen clattered to the floor, then his eyebrows wrinkled and he pulled an earbud out of his ear.

“Karen?”

She stuffed a lock of hair behind her ear and blew out a breath. “Sorry. Another trail just went cold,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s me or the evidence, but I think I’m going to go sleep it off.”

“Wait,” Foggy said. “What if we can drink it off? I’m in the same spot you’re in.” Karen looked intrigued and Matt looked conflicted.

“There’s no way you don’t have an opportunity to stop, Murdock,” Foggy said. “Come on, let’s go have fun.”

Matt paused and his face gave no sign of the thoughts Foggy knew were tumbling through Matt’s head. He nodded at them, firm, and stood up.

“You’re right. We all need some fun.”

Hours later, the fun resulted in Matt and Foggy taking positions on either side of Karen to help her walk straight. She stumbled, and Foggy caught her weight, lifting to keep her upright. He glanced over her head at Matt to find him grinning.

His chest filled with air and bubbles and he smiled back.

And then Matt took over care of Karen while Foggy unlocked the doors to her building and then her apartment.

Foggy helped take her shoes off, and then they both guided her to bed.

“Mm, night guys,” she said sleepily.

“Good night, Karen,” Matt replied. He took Foggy’s elbow when they turned to leave, and Foggy felt a pocket of warmth open inside him to dispel the cold that had settled in. Matt didn’t let go until he’d deposited Foggy at his door.

Once again, Foggy was using the key. But this time, he had an idea of what he could expect to find.

When he walked into the main room, he thought he might not have gotten enough supplies from the CVS.

“Foggy?” Matt looked up from his work, which involved bandages, bloody rags and suture equipment. His face was a mix of colors, made up of wide gashes, assorted blood tracks and bruises already turning purple and blue.

Worse — somehow — he wasn’t on the couch or at the table, but sitting on the floor near the stairs with his legs thrown out in front of him and his back slouched against the stairs’ base.

When he got closer, Foggy could see Matt was sweating and pale.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, sliding to his knees next to Matt. He snatched the towel out of Matt’s hands and dug through his bag for the bottle of water.

As Foggy took over the work, Matt’s head fell back against the wall. “How did you know to be here?”

“I knew you were going out and I knew you were hurt earlier this week.” He was amazed his voice could be so calm, but then Foggy remembered how much worse this could be. For example, Matt was done with the stitches. For another, he didn’t seem to have been in danger of bleeding out.

Matt sat with that in silence and he looked contemplative while Foggy finished the clean-up. When he was done with one side, he dragged Matt over and ran the towel over his face and chest. Matt winced, and then he shivered and turned to lean into Foggy.

“It looks like you had some pretty close calls here, Matty,” Foggy observed quietly. Matt shrugged but didn’t speak. From his face, it looked like he was thinking.

His temple rested on Foggy’s collarbone, and he tried hard not to think about that, or how he could feel Matt’s breath against his neck.

When Foggy finished cleaning, he held a last bloody towel and Matt at the same time.

“You know, Matt,” he said, adjusting so he and Matt were facing each other better. Matt even tipped his face up as his signal he was listening. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Matt’s reaction was too complicated for Foggy to parse.

“I think you’ve told me that before,” he replied.

“In this very apartment,” Foggy agreed. He wanted to make clear that he meant it every time he said it, but he wasn’t sure he had to. It seemed like Matt was realizing that all on his own.

He tossed the dirty, biohazards across the room and settled into as comfortable a position as he could. In front of him, the lights from the billboard outside shifted and danced across the floor. After a moment, Foggy realized he felt oddly serene.

“I love you, Foggy,” Matt murmured, moving in a little closer and tucking his head under Foggy’s chin.

“I love you too, Matt.” The words sent a straight shot of sparks through Foggy’s belly. He didn’t want to confront why that was yet, so he buried his smile and the happiness of it in the top of Matt’s fluffy head.

“Do you still go to Mass?” Foggy asked on December 23rd, while he and Matt walked to work.

Matt’s confused voice answered the question, though he clearly didn’t understand why. “Yes.”

“And are you planning on going in the next two days?” Foggy wondered if Matt could hear how serious he was.

“Yes.” His voice sounded the same.

Foggy stopped and swung around so he faced Matt. “Will you take me?”

Matt’s eyebrows flew up over the rim of his glasses, and his mouth parted in surprise. “Really? You want to go?” 

“I think it would be nice.” And it was important to Matt, who was holding Foggy’s arm like always and standing close. He was alive and warm, and he shined even if he would never believe it.

They’d made it through a few years of hell and uncertainty, and Foggy knew deep down he wanted to go into the next with Matt right beside him.

“Okay.” Matt looked ridiculously pleased.

Matt met him at his apartment the next evening and they walked to Clinton Church together. All the way there, he was at ease and smiling, but that changed when they stepped inside.

For his part, Foggy had to remember to breathe around the overwhelming sense-memories he most recently associated with the place.

Matt was worse. Not that he showed it.

Instead, he led them to a pew and pulled down the kneeler without hesitation, but Foggy saw how stiff and straight his spine was as he prayed, and when he sat back again.

Without speaking, Foggy nudged his arm and slipped his through Matt’s when he paid attention to him.

The new priest was good, Foggy thought. His homily for the vigil was succinct, but it was warm, and it was a nice reminder about people being good to each other. He thought it was especially appropriate for the year they’d had.

The hymns were an unexpected balm, too. The acoustics of the church expanded the sound so the old, traditional songs reached out to envelop them in familiarity. Even though he hardly practiced anymore, Foggy still felt a deep tension in him ease.

Over the course of the Mass, Matt slowly relaxed until his shoulder pressed against Foggy’s. He also closed his eyes and tipped his chin up during the hymns like the music had the same effect on him.

When they left at the end, Foggy felt like this decision ranked among the top ten of the year. Matt didn’t remove his arm from Foggy’s and they walked into the dark night together, just like college. For the first time in a long time, Foggy’s life was quiet and peaceful.

And when he kissed Matt, that was too. Matt kissing him was even better.

“Hey Matty?” Matt inclined his head, even though their faces were still close. “When I said I love you I meant it. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Matt’s smile was like candlelight and his knuckles brushed against the edge of Foggy’s jaw before he moved into Foggy’s space again. He bumped their foreheads together.

“Having you back is a miracle I didn’t think I’d get to have,” he said. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

Nothing Foggy could think to say sounded right in his head, so he kissed Matt again instead.

It had been a long road, but they were finally standing at the end of it, together. Deep in his gut, Foggy’s long-standing conviction that he belonged with Matt told him they were in the right place.

_“The future is made of yous, it is made of encounters, because life flows through our relations with others. Quite a few years of life have strengthened my conviction that each and everyone’s existence is deeply tied to that of others: life is not time merely passing by, life is about interactions…we all need each other, none of us is an island, an autonomous and independent ‘I,’ separated from the other, and we can only build the future by standing together,”_ Pope Francis, 2017 TED talk.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to read or listen to the rest of the pope's TED talk that provided the framing for this fic, [here's a link](https://time.com/4755663/pope-francis-ted-talk-transcript/). It's nice. 
> 
> Let me know what you think while I contemplate whether I'm wandering into heretical territory by connecting the pope and fanfiction.


End file.
